


the merry men

by ofscythia



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Robin Hood AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofscythia/pseuds/ofscythia
Summary: Nicoló takes a step away from the man, hand reaching for the dagger he keeps strapped to his belt."I don't mean you any harm." Yusuf assures. "But, I do know you. You're that brave man who steals money back from the sheriff and gives it back to the people. The one who broke into the town's grain storage to help end the famine."
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	the merry men

**Author's Note:**

> This started because I wanted to write a fic about Nicoló using a bow, and now we have a Robin Hood AU - you're welcome? 
> 
> Robin Hood!Nicky and Little John!Yusuf for the win
> 
> New to fic writing - comments much appreciated!

After spending two day trying to shake off a determined group of soldiers, Nicoló decides it might be time to leave Loxley for a few weeks and find a new place to set up his operations. He's developed a bit of a reputation locally, the dashing hooded man who robs from the King's ruthless tax collectors and distributes the money back to the poor. Villages from here to the coast are covered in his wanted posters, all offering rewards for whoever captures this mysterious archer. All the rewards of his success in thieving, but all good reasons to relocate. Nicoló had been keeping far from the roads, making his camps far from the roadways and avoiding other travelers. 

Nicoló plans to travel along the eastern border of Sherwood Forest, following the river and letting whatever adventures he encounters come his way. His travels have mostly been mundane until he makes the decision to cross over to the other bank. The river is running high and fast, gorged from the recent rains. The only crossing to the other side is a rough log bridge long enough to reach the opposite bank. As Nicoló approaches, he notices that the way across to the other side is blocked. Seated on the log is a man, a quarterstaff laid across his lap. He has a head of curly black hair and a fine black beard and Nicoló offers a friendly wave as he approaches.

“Hail, friend.” Nicoló calls, pulling down the hood of his cloak to greet the other man. 

“Hail to you.” The man responds, voice rich and warm. “What’s your business?”

Nicoló shrugs breezily at the question. The life of an outlaw is one of vagabond roving, floating from one village to another to shake the attention of the King's soldiers. "Simply passing through." He says. "I hope it is no trouble, but my destination lies on the other side of this bridge. Will you let me pass by you?”

The handsome man grins and shakes his head, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’ll not yield this bridge to any man, unless he can best me in a fight. Five men have tried so far, and all have failed.”

The prospect of a challenge makes Nicoló smile, always eager for a chance to prove his mettle against worthy men. After all, he hadn’t become the best archer in the land by shying away from competition. “I’d be happy to test you with my bow. A competition of accuracy?" 

The man on the bridge eyes Nicoló bow and quiver with open admiration but shakes his head. "This will be a test of strength, not aim. Man against man, each armed with a staff. If you knock me into the river, you're free to pass. If I knock you in, you can swim across to the other side." 

Interesting odds, ones definitely meant to favor this handsome stranger. Still, Nicoló's pride won't allow him to simply demure from a bit of fun. "I'd be happy to accept your terms, but I have no staff to fight with. If you'd be so kind as to loan me yours..."

That makes the man laugh, flashing a charming smile. “How fortunate, then, that the forest is rich with oak and ash and all of them would be more than willing to spare you a branch. I'm content to wait for you to cut your own and return back at your leisure, archer."

Nicoló can't deny the pleasant shiver that runs up his spine to hear this man call him 'archer', and drops into a sweeping bow, agreeing to the man's terms and promising to return shortly.

Luckily, Nicoló needn't wander far from the riverside to come across a rich grove of ash trees. He walks among the trunks, searching for a branch long and thick enough to serve his purposes. He's able to find a length of wood about as tall as he is and cuts the limb down with his dagger, shaving off the smaller branches with the blade before returning back to the river. Nicoló is strangely giddy to return and face his challenger, though he's not sure if that's because he's hungry for a challenge or simply wants a closer look at the man's kind, handsome face.

Either way, this friendly test of skill will hardly delay his plans, and Nicoló can't deny that having a bit of company would be a refreshing change. The nature of his work requires him to work alone and even with his frequent traveling Nicoló will often go days without seeing another soul. A price of his work; Nicoló can travel through the King's forest better than any royal hunter, but that often means he makes his conversation with deer, not men. 

When he emerges from the forest and onto the riverbank, the handsome stranger rises to his feet. "Find a branch to suit your purpose, archer? Or will you yield before we begin and swim across on your own?" His tone is light and friendly, his smile warming Nicoló nearly as much as the sun is. 

"Oh, I'd never refuse a challenge so gallantly offered." He assures, flashing a smile of his own. "But might I know the name of the man who challenges me?” Nicoló shrugs off his bow, quiver, cloak, and pack and steps up on the log bridge with his staff. His challenger walks backwards with a casual air, allowing Nicoló to meet him at the center of the bridge.

“In my home I am called Yusuf, though most I meet in England know me as Joseph.”

Nicoló offers a quick salute, charmed to meet another man who has made this land his new home. “A pleasure to meet you, Yusuf." He says back cordially. "I am Nicoló."

"I hope you like the water, Nicoló, for that is where every man I've met today has ended up." Yusuf warns cheerfully, falling into a defensive stance with his staff held above his head, angled down towards Nicoló. He smiles and counters Yusuf's guard with one of his own, keeping his staff low as he focuses on Yusuf. Now within striking distance, they each take a moment to square the other up.

Yusuf is taller than he is and clearly comfortable fighting with a staff. It's the common's man weapon, a sport and style that any rank of man could learn and master. Nicoló had spent his boyhood squabbling with the village boys with short staffs, smacking each other's legs and shoulders when they sparred in the town square, but he's also seen competent fighters shatter the skulls of opponents with a single strike. 

Yusuf smiles and spins his staff on one side of his body and then the other before settling into a guard and quickly tapping the end of his staff against the log. The noise breaks Nicoló attention and he glances down, which gives Yusuf the chance to swing the other end of his staff at his head. Nicoló ducks under the strike and counters with his own, which Yusuf easily blocks. While there is no doubt that Yusuf is a strong man - Nicoló can see the broadness of his shoulders and the firmness of his stomach under his shirt - his blows are far from dangerous. They're almost teasingly light, as if Yusuf is teaching a child how to spar.

Nicoló jabs at Yusuf's stomach with more intent, landing the hit before the other man can knock his staff away. Yusuf takes a step back and answers with two lightning fast strikes to Nicoló right arm and leg, making him sway dangerously before regaining his balance. Eager to keep him off his feet, Yusuf grips the far end of his staff with two hands and swings the staff out in front of him, forcing Nicoló to duck and back away from him. 

Yusuf laughs to watch him struggle with his balance and aims a few blows at Nicoló feet. Annoyed and close to slipping off the log and into the river, Nicoló swears and swings at Yusuf's head. The taller man weaves out of the way of the blow and jabs the end of his staff at Nicoló face, who only barely manages to block the blow. "If you break my nose we'll no longer be friends, Yusuf." Nicoló warns, trying to answer back with a strike at Yusuf's knee.

"Rest assured, archer, I'd never damage something so beautiful." Yusuf says back, easily knocking Nicoló's blow away. The compliment takes Nicoló totally off guard, giving Yusuf an opening to smack his staff against Nicoló's ribs and then sweeping his legs out from underneath him, sending him tumbling into the river before he can fully process that Yusuf called him beautiful. Or, at the very least, his nose. 

The cold water is a shock and Nicoló yelps when he surfaces against, sputtering and coughing. He can hear Yusuf laughing at him from above and takes his hand when he's offered it. Delightfully, Yusuf is strong enough to lift him out of the river and back onto the bridge. Whether from the cold or the thrill of being handled by such a strong man, Nicoló is sure he's blushing.

"I'd challenge you to a rematch, but I think the river has washed away my staff."

Yusuf laughs, loud and joyful. "I think that's enough for today, archer. You'll catch your death walking around in wet clothes. Get over to the other bank, I'd hate for you to fall back in." Yusuf shoos him towards the other end of the bridge, walking back towards the other side and carefully gathering up NicoIó's things. "I promise not to get your bow wet." 

Nicoló leads the way over the bridge to the other bank, carefully minding his steps so his wet boots don't send him tumbling back into the water. When they safely reach the other side of the river, Yusuf passes over Nicoló's things.

"You fought well." He says. "For an archer."

"Do you say that to every man you knock into the river?" Nicoló asks, wringing out his wet hair and shirt before pulling his cloak back on.

"No, only the handsome ones." Yusuf responds lightheartedly. "Whoever drew your likeness for the wanted posters did you a disservice." 

Nicoló takes a step away from the man, hand reaching for the dagger he keeps strapped to his belt. "I don't mean you any harm." Yusuf assures. "But, I do know you. You're that brave man who steals money back from the sheriff and gives it back to the people. The one who broke into the town's grain storage to help end the famine."

That had been one of Nicoló's more ill-advised missions. He had scaled the building where the grain was being stored and bagged up enough for each home in the village, sneaking the bags out and distributing them all while avoiding the guards patrolling the streets and guarding the building. He had taken a nasty fall and had walked with a limp for weeks after. But it had been worth it; all of his missions always were. 

"I'm not brave, just foolhardy enough to try and make things better." Nicoló says, taking his hand off the handle of his blade. "No lord should be hoarding food when his people starve in the streets."

Yusuf nods emphatically. "There is so much corruption here. Farmers and tradesmen trapped under the rule of men who don't care for them. I admire you, you're one of the few doing anything about it."

A thought comes to Nicoló suddenly, one that us so risky and foolish he shouldn't even lend it voice. But maybe the river water has gone to his head, or maybe Yusuf's smile has lowered his guard, because he speaks up. "You know, I've never met a man who fights as well with a staff as you. If you could be tempted to stop guarding this river, I think the two of us could do some good." Nicoló pretends that the hopeful tone in his voice isn't obvious and Yusuf considers his offer.

He's been working on his own since he started working as the hooded archer and there's no denying that having a partner on his missions would be helpful. Someone to watch his back and help with heists, someone to talk to and share a fire with. Perhaps more, if Nicoló was ever brave enough to give voice to his feelings.

"I could be tempted to leave this bridge, archer, for nothing but the pleasure of your company." Yusuf answers, leaning on his quarterstaff as he looks Nicoló up and down. "I have a few scores of my own to settle with the lords around Nottingham."

In all his days, Nicoló never thought that falling into a river would bring him such good fortune. He looks over at the road, winding away from Loxley and all his troubles, and then over at the other side of the river. Back to his home, back to where the Sheriff of Nottingham and all his men wait to catch Nicoló in some trap, back where honest and hardworking villagers struggle to survive, and his mind is made up.

He offers Yusuf his hand to shake, which the other man quickly accepts. "I do believe this is the beginning of many wondrous adventures together, Yusuf."

"The first of many." The other man assures.


End file.
